Song
Argañaraz · 1949
Credit
- Music
- Roberto Firpo
- Lyrics
- Enrique Cadícamo
Source: TangoCloud catalogue
Every recording
6 recordings · our catalogue, dances filmed on TangoTube · 8 more we know of
Choose A and B on two recordings to hear them one after the other.
- Juan D'ArienzoArmando Laborde · RCA Victor · Nov 10Not danced on film yet1966
- Ricardo TanturiEarliest we holdMost dancedInstrumental · RCA Victor · Nov 18101 dances1940
- Ángel D'AgostinoTino García · RCA Victor · Jul 24Not danced on film yet1952
- Alfredo De AngelisRubén Linares · ColumbiaNot danced on film yet1985
- Roberto FirpoIgnacio Murillo · RCA Victor · Apr 212 dances1944
- Héctor VarelaInstrumental · Sep 161 dance1959
- Carlos GardelNot in our catalogueApr 11930
- -unspecified guitars-Not in our catalogueCarlos Gardel · Apr 11930
- Adolfo PérezNot in our catalogueInstrumental · Nov 251949
- Joaquín Do ReyesNot in our catalogueEnrique Lucero1950
- Joaquín Do ReyesNot in our catalogueEnrique Campos1950
- Joaquín Do ReyesNot in our catalogueInstrumental
- Miguel VillasboasNot in our catalogueInstrumental
- -unspecified guitars-Not in our catalogueCarlos Gardel
Lyrics
Español
Tiempos viejos y compadres de mi vida cadenera que ya no volverán mis años a gozar. Qué habrá sido de esa barra, bravucona y trensillera, que tanto dio que hablar por su guapear. Adiós, amigos de entonces, ya estamos viejos de tanto andar. Marcando una candombeada fue luciendo medias lunas y entre cortes y quebradas iba el tango provocador. Me acuerdo de aquellas farras que entre fueyes dormilones, rimaban los corazones un pasaje sentimental. Siglo de oro de ese tiempo en que el ñato Monteagudo, borracho de pernod, se quiso suicidar. Y del loco Puentecito y del viejito Lozano No los he vuelto a ver, ¿dónde andarán? Adiós, amigos de entonces, ya estamos viejos de tanto andar.
English · machine translation
Old times and compadres of my chain life that will never return my years to enjoy. What will have become of that bar, bravucona and trensillera, that gave so much to talk about for its guapear. Farewell, friends of that time, we are already old from so much walking. Marking a candombeada was wearing half moons and between cortes and quebradas went the provocative tango. I remember those farras that among the sleepy fueyes rhymed the hearts a sentimental passage. Golden century of that time when the ñato Monteagudo drunk on pernod, wanted to commit suicide. And of the crazy Puentecito and old Lozano I have not seen them again, Where are they? Farewell, friends from back then, we are already old from so much walking.
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